


You First

by nottoolateforthegame



Series: Show and Tell [1]
Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Blow Job, Intergluteal Sex, M/M, Masturbation, PWP
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-28
Updated: 2018-06-28
Packaged: 2019-05-29 23:40:01
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,369
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15084266
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nottoolateforthegame/pseuds/nottoolateforthegame
Summary: Sherlock takes John up on his promise. FollowsI'll Show You Mine if You Show Me Yours





	1. Cover for You First




	2. Chapter 2

John tasted faintly if spearmint. His lips were slightly chapped, no doubt his habit of licking his lips was to blame. His cheeks were just slightly stubbly-unless he had a reason to, he never shaved at night. His hair was dry this late after his evening shower, soft and silky against Sherlock’s fingers.

Sherlock pulled back from their kiss, pressing John back against the bed.

“You first.”

John smirked up at him, his steely blue eyes shining up at Sherlock as he quirked a brow at him and folded his arms behind his head.

Sherlock sat back, running his eyes over Johns relaxed form. Now that he had permission, now that John was as much an active participant as himself, he wanted to take his time, explore and savor. 

Sherlock threw a leg across John’s waist and settled on top of him. He reached out, trailing his hands down John’s arms, noting the slightly rougher texture of John’s skin against his own. When he reached John’s armpit, he let the tips of his fingers tangle in the wiry, burnished gold hair.

John snickered, then bit his lip. Sherlock’s eyes rose to meet his again.

“Tickles.” 

“Hmmm…”

Sherlock let his hands drift lower. He settled on hand on John’s sternum while the other traced over the scarring on John’s shoulder. The scar had silvered over time, a divot surrounded by a thick ropy circle of pale flesh where clavicle met shoulder. Sherlock couldn't resist pressing a kiss to it. He closed his eyes and pressed soft, quick brushes across the scar and around it, both hating that John had had to live through that dark period of his life and incredibly grateful it had brought him into Sherlock’s life. 

And then it was only natural to continue kissing and tasting John. Sherlock’s lips skimmed across John’s leanly muscled chest. His skin was freshly cleaned, with just a hint of saltiness. When Sherlock came to his dusky nipple, he allowed himself the pleasure of suckling the flesh into his mouth, toying with it between his teeth until John was arching up beneath him, gasping in pleasure.

Sherlock released his nipple and John settled back down as Sherlock trailed lower. He scraped his teeth against John’s lower ribs, trailing his hands through the sparse golden hairs on John’s chest, fingers splayed wide. John stayed flat, tilting his chin to look down at the sight of dark curls against his abdomen. 

Sherlock kissed and laved and sucked and teased at John’s abdomen, reveling in the softness there. John had been unwell when Sherlock met him, underfed and depressed. Now, he ate regular meals, chased criminals with Sherlock and worked out regularly. He wasn't back to peak fighting form as he had been in the army, but he was healthy and alive and Sherlock wouldn't have him any other way.

John was breathing heavily, body thrumming in anticipation by the time Sherlock reached his pants, which had shifted back in place in all their shifting around. Sherlock wasted no time in peeling them off, dragging them down John’s legs before gripping John’s knees and splaying them wide, settling his upper body into the space he had created.

He trailed his hands up John’s thighs as he stared at his cock. It was thick and long and rosy, rising from a thatch of neatly trimmed golden hairs. His bollocks hung heavy, firm and round; and Sherlock’s mouth watered at the thought of tasting them. He put thought to action, swooping in to mouth at one, tongue curving around it as he inhaled deeply.

Heat pooled low in his groin at the smell and taste of John, musky and salty and  _ John _ . 

John groaned and Sherlock glanced up to see his head thrown back, tendons standing out along the column of his neck. Sherlock let a smug smile quirk his lips before he licked up the length of John’s cock, swallowing him down as he reached the tip.

John cursed and Sherlock felt John’s hand land in his head, his thick fingers threading through Sherlock’s wavy auburn hair.

Sherlock used his hand to cover the length of John he couldn’t get into his mouth and set up a light teasing pace. He didn’t want to get John off like this-no, the first time he made John come, he wanted to watch, to see every microexpression on his face. That didn't mean he couldn't enjoy the weight of him on his tongue, the feel of his hard length sliding in and out of his mouth, the taste of his precum, salty and bitter…John’s hand tugged on Sherlock's hair, and he let himself be pulled off.

John was watching him, eyes dark, face flushed.

“You. I want to see you, too.” He insisted, fingers pinching the collar of Sherlock’s worn sleep tee.

Sherlock sat back and stripped quickly, letting John look his fill for a few moments. Then he was directing John to move, positioning him sitting up against the headboard before straddling his lap.

“Oh, fuck!” John cursed as Sherlock wriggled, settling in place with John's hot, hard cock snugged up against his own. 

John hardly had time to catch his breath before Sherlock began moving, leaning in to capture John’s lips in a deep, wet kiss as he rocked against him. They both moaned as Sherlock slowly hitched forward and back, enjoying the slide of John’s cock against his own.

Soon they were both panting too harshly to kiss, and Sherlock sat up, taking his own leaking cock in hand and causing John’s to slide between his arse cheeks. He held John’s gaze as he began arching forward and back, fucking his fist as John’s cock slid against his perineum and bollocks.

John’s hands gripped Sherlock’s hips, and he began to roll his own in counterpoint to Sherlock’s movement. Soon his grip in Sherlock’s hips tightened, his low moans becoming gasping encouragements. Sherlock began pressing down, down, down, grinding against John’s thick, leaking cock, feeling it begin to swell and twitch against him. 

John's eyes started to drift closed as he approached orgasm.

“Look at me, John, I want to see you.” Sherlock commanded.

John's eyes flew open, and Sherlock rewarded him by reaching out and tweaking both of his nipples as he deliberately gave a series of slow deep grinds. John arched up beneath him.

“Yes! John! That's it! Come for me!”

John cried out and Sherlock felt the hot flood of his release spray his thighs, arse and bollocks. John’s face was stunning. His mouth hung open, his eyes blown wide, pupils dilated. A flush had crept over his chest, neck and face. His face froze in a mask of incandescent pleasure.

Sherlock absorbed every detail, watching as John’s orgasm washed across his face and body and ebbed away, leaving him sated and relaxed beneath Sherlock. John’s lopsided grin and sparkling eyes warmed Sherlock’s chest even as the throbbing of his prick reminded him he hadn’t come yet.

He began to fuck his fist again, leaning up on his knees to rock above John. John’s smile faded, his expression becoming serious with affection and wonder as he watched Sherlock. Sherlock bit his lip as he felt the pressure building, holding back a whimper.

“Let me hear you, love. You’re so fucking perfect like this. Gorgeous.” John’s quietly spoken words, filled with desire and affection and admiration sent Sherlock over the edge.

His climax shook his whole body, come spurting in bursts across John’s abdomen and chest. When he finished, he sprawled atop John, boneless. He felt John shift around a bit, settling one arm across his back while another hand settle across the back of a splayed thigh; and then a kiss was pressed to the top of his head before John relaxed completely beneath him. Soon, John’s breathing had settled into the regular pattern of sleep, and Sherlock could hear his heartbeat slowing. Sherlock allowed himself to be lulled by rhythm of John’s chest rising and falling beneath him. He had the hazy thought that he could wake John in the morning with his mouth on John’s cock, and a satisfied smile crept across his face as he gave in to sleep.

**Author's Note:**

> Find me on [Tumblr!](http://nottoolateforthegame.tumblr.com/)


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